


Whatever You Ask

by LittleUggie



Series: NaNoWriMo Shorts [6]
Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Porn, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 00:59:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleUggie/pseuds/LittleUggie
Summary: A short porny follow up to All of Me





	Whatever You Ask

Will kneels, unclothed, between Count Hannibal Lecter’s spread legs as the lord lounges in a leather chair in the library. The flickering light from the fireplace washes over him, making his pale skin glow. The count runs a thumb along Will’s jawline. The young man keeps his eyes down. 

“Unbutton the breeches.” The voice burns through Will like a drink of strong liquor. With nimble fingers he undoes the placket in front of him. Through the thin fabric of the count’s underthings he can feel the heat of his skin. 

“Pull the drawers aside.” Hooking his thumbs under the drawstring waistband, he slowly reveals the count’s stiffening cock. He tucks the material behind his sack. Lecter’s hand moves from Will’s face to his curls. He tangles his long fingers in the softness. 

“Wrap your hand around the base firmly.” Will can feel the lord’s pulse beneath his palm. 

“Tight strokes, to the head and back down.” He does so, the slide growing easier as the tip begins to leak. He looks up through his eyelashes. The count’s eyes are half closed. He is watching Will’s face. His cheeks flush, which is patently ridiculous considering all he has done at this man’s request. 

At the gentle pressure of the count’s hand on the back of his head, Will dips down and takes the organ into his mouth. He hadn’t known people did this until Hannibal did it to him, showing how to best give pleasure. He seemed to enjoy talking the younger man through it. Will burned with shameful pleasure at the intimate act. 

In many ways it is a show of trust. Lecter allowed Will to take the most vulnerable part of him between his teeth. Currently they were sheathed behind his lips as he bobs down on the cock, taking it as far as he can without gagging. He hollows his cheeks and sucks hard, pulling back up, lips in a tight seal. On his tongue, the cock twitched, the salty taste of precum dripping down his throat. He wraps a hand around the base and strokes upward. He licks at the mushroom head, pulling gently at the foreskin with his lips. 

“Your mouth.” Hannibal says. His voice is as calm as ever, but Will can feel the thudding of his pulse in his groin. Will wraps his lips back over the head, just as the count begins to come. He swallows every bitter drop, only letting go when the organ has gone soft. Carefully, he tucks it back in Lecter’s pants and breeches. 

The count runs his fingers through Will’s tousled curls. He enjoyed doing this frequently. Will rests his head on one strong thigh, letting his mind drift and enjoying the soothing sensation. The fire in the grate warmed his bare skin. His sense of modesty had diminished greatly over the last few months. Lord Lecter liked seeing him stripped, smooth pale skin on display. After Abigail left for school, the count lost all compunction about keeping their sexual activities confined to the bedroom. 

Will closes his eyes and floats in warm darkness for an unspecified amount of time. He surfaces as the count coaxes him to lie on his stomach on the soft rug before the fire. The heat washes over him. He turns his head, resting his temple on folded arms, to watch Hannibal disrobe. The glow from the fireplace dramatically casts shadows across the defined planes of the count’s body. 

A quiet sigh escapes Will as Hannibal drapes himself across his back, pressing the younger man into the plush carpeting. Questing fingers find his hole loose and slick from where Will had prepared himself after supper. Lecter presses a kiss to the back of his neck before fitting himself between Will’s legs. Below, Will arches his back, letting out a shaking breath at the feel of Hannibal’s hardness pressing against him. 

The slide of the thick cock into him no longer hurt. Rarely a day went by that Will wasn’t taken by his master. Now there is nothing but a pleasurable stretch and fullness. The count pushes  in until his hip bones are pressed against Will’s buttocks. The younger man clenches his insides around the length inside him, making Hannibal set his teeth to his shoulder in retaliation. 

Will moans at the slow roll of the count’s hips. He is achingly hard, leaking onto the rug below him, but he knows better than to try and touch himself. His body is not his own, and that includes his pleasure. It belongs to Lecter, who seems to be in the mood for a leisurely ride. Will begins to pant as the tension builds. He pushes back unconsciously, needing more, harder. Hannibal’s hands clamp down on his hips, holding him still, not changing his rhythm. 

Will huffs out a groan. He is desperate, needing more, but he is completely at Hannibal’s mercy. And he knows how little of that the man has. His fingers dig into the carpet.

“Please.” He gasps. 

Hannibal pauses, before pulling out completely. He flips Will over, eliciting another gasp, this one of surprise. A hand is buried in his curls, tugging his head back. Will closes his eyes. 

“Look at me.” Hannibal commands. 

Will forces his eyes open and looks into the count’s dark eyes. Of all the things Lord Lecter asks him to do, Will still finds this one of the most difficult. Hannibal’s gaze bored into him, the younger man fancies that his very soul is being examined. The count slides back into his body. Will’s hands clasp Hannibal’s upper arms, nails digging in as the lord hits that spot inside him from a new angle. He struggles to keep his eyes on Hannibal’s as the heat inside him grows hotter and hotter. Crying out, his body bows as he comes, vision blurring. He slumps back on the carpet. Hannibal is still moving within him, faster. Will shudders with over stimulation. 

The count is quiet when he reaches his climax. He removes himself from Will and sits back on his heels. He simply sits and watches Will. The younger man’s sides heaving as he slowly comes down from the heights of pleasure. Lecter spreads Will’s legs wider, so he can see the seed seeping out of his hole. Will sleepily looks toward the vaulted ceiling, falling into the familiar post-sex haze. 

At length, the count produces a handkerchief and cleans them both up. He redresses, leaving Will to continue to lie before the fire. He picks up the dressing robe Will had worn down earlier. The young man stands, somewhat shakily, and lets the count help him into it. 

A firm hand on the small of his back leads him from the library, upstairs, and into Hannibal’s bedroom. Will rarely used the bedroom assigned to him for sleeping. It is mostly just a place to keep his clothes. Count Lecter liked to keep him in his own bed for convenience. The lord takes the dressing gown and Will climbs nude under the turned down sheets. Hannibal goes and sits at the desk in the corner, picking up the sketch book lying there. Will falls asleep to the familiar sound of a pencil scratching on the paper. 


End file.
